Sleep, Beloved
by darkest star
Summary: Sam confronts his feelings towards Frodo as he watches his master sleep. Set during TTT.
1. Sleep, Beloved

Title: Sleep, beloved 

Rating: PG-13 

Disclaimer: I don't own them. We all know it. 

Author's Note: Set during one night of Frodo and Sam's journey through Emyn Muil. This may seem like a one-shot, but it's actually only one chapter of what will become my very first Frodo/Sam fic. And to think I couldn't picture them together at first. Bah! 

Sam watched, mesmerized, as Frodo's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He propped himself up on his elbow in order to face Frodo, who was lying on his back next to him. Sam sighed and shook his head. Frodo was getting thinner and paler. The beautiful tint of rose which had once painted his cheekbones was fading. "Oh, Mister Frodo," he whispered softly, brows furrowing with worry. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers gently against Frodo's cheek in an endearing motion. Frodo let out a soft moan and his body shifted slightly. Startled, Sam whipped back his hand. His eyes widened as he continued to gaze at Frodo, but his heartbeat began to slow down when his master made no further movements. 

"Your master, Sam Gamgee," he thought sadly to himself, casting his eyes to the ground in a sudden embarrassment. "He's your master, nothing more. And it isn't proper for you to feel this way about him." 

Sam closed his eyes in a prolonged blink, trying hard to understand his own feelings. Just how did he feel about Frodo? When their quest had first begun, Sam had felt absolute devotion towards Frodo. He had made a promise to Gandalf and a promise to himself, and Samwise Gamgee did not break his promises. Yet slowly, devotion was more or less replaced by friendship, a friendship which, in the Shire, could not have been recognized between master and gardener. But...what came after friendship? What was he feeling now? 

Sam rolled over onto his back, unable to look at Frodo anymore because of the confusion it caused him. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep. He wanted a sleep free of nightmares, and free of dreams. "Shameful dreams, Sam," he would tell himself. But they kept coming back. He shut his eyes tighter, and his face wrinkled around his eyes. "Ahh, it's no use," he said aloud in a frustrated sigh. He stared up directly at the sky, trying to focus on the stars. Oh, but they were beautiful. 

A sudden, soft cry from Frodo made Sam turn his head immediately toward his master. Frodo was biting his lower lip in his slumber, and his sleeping face was wrenched with pain. Sam rolled over on his side again and placed his hand over both of Frodo's, which were clenched together furiously. Frodo exhaled sharply, then Sam felt his master's hands loosen. Frodo's face relaxed and he returned to a peaceful rest. His nightmares had been coming more and more frequently, and Sam always seemed to be awake when one of them arrived. He removed his hand from Frodo's and kissed the sleeping hobbit's knuckles, then raised his eyes, his head still lowered. Sam put his hand to his heart, unconsciously trying to slow it down. He was so beautiful, so dear to him. 

Then Sam sat up partially, and bent his neck down until his face was directly above Frodo's. He smiled just looking at him, then bent his head in towards Frodo's and pressed his lips gently against those of his master's. Surprised at his own actions, he withdrew quickly and immediately lay down on his back again, eyes wide as they stared up at nothing in particular. "Shame on you, Sam Gamgee," he scolded himself quietly. His heart was racing. He felt like a criminal. Frodo moaned softly once more and Sam heard a slight rustle beside him. He turned on his side to see that Frodo had done the same and that they now lay face to face. 

"Mister Frodo, dear Mister Frodo," he whispered. He slowly lifted a shaking hand and placed it behind Frodo's head, where he rested it. "Shame on you, Sam," he whispered almost inaudibly this time, closing his eyes and drawing steadily nearer to Frodo. He could feel the warm air from Frodo's nostrils on his face. He kissed Frodo again, if it could even be called a kiss. He didn't press up against Frodo at all this time. He only placed his lips on his beloved's in a moment that he wished could be so much more. 

"Mmm, my beloved," Sam groaned softly. He removed his hand from behind Frodo's head and placed it on his back, drawing himself closer to his master. He wound his other arm around Frodo's waist and pressed himself against his body until he could feel their hearts beating together, as well as the warmth of their skin separated by a mere few layers of clothing. But Sam wasn't thinking of removing his or Frodo's clothing at all. His feelings that night were pure and loving. Loving... 

"I love you, Frodo," he whispered, falling into sleep. 


	2. Beautiful

Author's Note: This chapter's a bit longer, hope you like it. Not as angsty as the first, but the angst-o-meter will *definately* go up within the next few chapters. Enjoy! 

"Sam...Sam..." 

Sam's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name released in a sigh. He squinted, trying to adjust to the morning light, then blinked once and let his eyes pop wide open, to find himself looking directly into two bright blue orbs. He looked down slightly to see his arm still around Frodo's waist, as well as Frodo's small figure pulling back slightly. Sam gently pulled back his arm and sat up. 

"Sorry, Mr. Frodo," he said with a blush. "My arm must've been boring into your side the whole night." 

"No, Sam," replied Frodo with a weak smile. "I think your arms are probably the only warmth I had last night." He stood up and offered Sam his hand. Sam reached out and took hold of it, mostly pulling himself up from the ground. 

"Your hand," said Sam in shock, still holding it in his own. "Why, it's ice cold!" 

Frodo gave a small shrug. "Everything's cold," he said gloomily. "And it's so gray here. Even Mordor seems a brighter place than this." He took a few steps away and sunk down into a sitting position on the earth, his back against a large rock. Sam approached the rock and sat down next to Frodo, putting his arm around him. 

"Come now, Mr. Frodo," he said gently. "Don't give up hope on me. Not when you've already made it this far." 

Frodo cast his gaze upwards at Sam, his eyes brimming with tears and seeming to contain a wordless plead. "Oh Sam," he breathed, resting his head on the younger hobbit's chest. 

"We'll make it," said Sam quietly. 

There were a few moments of silence as Sam stared straight ahead and Frodo closed his eyes in an attempt to fight back his tears. "Sam?" Frodo asked at last, eyes still closed. His voice was shaky and concerned. 

"What is it, Mr. Frodo?" 

"What did I do to deserve you?" He waited for an answer, then looked up at Sam when he received none. "Why do you look so confused?" he asked him. 

"Well, I suppose I am confused," answered Sam. "By your question, I mean. You don't have to do anything to deserve me. I'm here, I'll always be here." 

"I know, Sam. But why?" 

"Because I want to," Sam answered bluntly. 

Frodo shook his head and looked into the distance. "You don't want to. No soul would ever want to be in this horrid place, heading in this path." 

Sam nodded. "I know, I know, but...well, it isn't that I want to be in this place. I just...want to be wherever you are. And it isn't so much something I want, but something I have to do." Sam paused as Frodo turned his head to look at him. "Not that anyone was forcin' me to do it," said Sam. "But it's something I just have to do, regardless where it takes me." 

Frodo smiled in sadness and gratitude. "Everything you say makes me realize how lucky I am to have you here with me." He shook his head and looked away from Sam again, sighing. "I'm so...hungry." 

Sam chuckled. "I don't suppose it'll be any surprise what I have to offer you to eat." 

******************************************************************************** 

Guilty. 

Sam felt guilty. This night was the same as the night before had been. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Frodo's sleeping face. Only in sleep did his master ever seem to possess the slightest expression of peace, and Sam was reluctant to let that image go. He felt guilty for staring, and more guilty for his kisses the night before. He also felt regretful about the previous night. He knew that if he hadn't kissed Frodo then, he wouldn't want to so much now. Frodo's peace came from sleep, but Sam's peace came from Frodo. 

He found himself for the first time in his life truly tempted to do something he shouldn't. In his mind, he wrestled with the choice of whether or not to kiss his master again...just once more. He formed silent debates with himself, although he already knew which argument would win. He took Frodo's freezing hand in his own warm one, then turned to his side to face Frodo, leaning in towards his face almost immediately after. He touched Frodo's lips gently at first, as he had done the night before, but remained upon them for longer. His kiss became more involved, more...feeling. He was caught up in the moment, yet still noticed the small jerk Frodo's body made. Two pairs of eyes snapped open at the same time, and the larger blue ones widened. Sam broke the kiss and Frodo stared at him in surprised silence. He scrambled up into a sitting position and backed away from Sam, who sat up also. 

"Mr. Frodo," Sam began, voice already shaking. 

"Sam," Frodo whispered sharply, almost as if he were scolding the other. "What..." He cut himself off with a shake of the head. 

"Oh please, Mr. Frodo, don't be angry." He sort of crawled a little bit closer to Frodo, who didn't make a move. "Please forgive me. You know I couldn't bear for you to be angry at me. It was only that...well, you were asleep and I know it was wrong of me..." The words spilled out hurriedly and almost unclearly. "But it was only that you looked so peaceful, an' all, but so tired, even in your sleep. So tired, but so beautiful." 

Frodo looked at Sam, his face sad and confused. Sam opened his mouth to speak another plead of forgiveness, but Frodo surprised him by speaking first. "You're beautiful too, Sam." 

Sam looked directly at his master, genuinely shocked. "What?" 

"You're beautiful." Frodo reached out and held both of Sam's hand, sending a chill down Sam's spine by his skin's feel and touch. He sat with his legs folded, on his knees, closed his eyes, then leaned in quickly to kiss Sam on the lips. Sam's eyes bolted wide open and his heart leapt up, but he soon calmed himself enough to return the kiss. He slid his hands out from under Frodo's and placed them on the elder hobbit's shoulders, then gently pushed him to the ground. Sam knelt over Frodo, straddling his body with one leg on each side of him. He bent his neck down and kissed Frodo again, more passionately than he had ever before. He drew back and exhaled, then smiled down at Frodo, who smiled back at him. Sam leaned in once more, but as he did so, Frodo's smile faded and he placed his hand on Sam's chest and pushed him away. Sam sat up fully, as did Frodo. 

"What is it?" Sam asked quietly. "Did I do something wrong?" 

"No." Frodo shook his head. "No, no. But we cannot do this." 

Sam was lost. "Why not?" 

Frodo lifted his head and gazed at Sam. He took a ragged breath in. "Because," he said, tears forming in his eyes. "I don't deserve you. And you don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this." He lifted his hand and motioned around him. He saw Sam open his mouth, but he silenced him with a tender kiss. "No objections, Sam, and no more speaking tonight. I'm confused about this...but happy. Let's be happy for one night, shall we?" He tried to smile, and Sam nodded, expressionless. Frodo lay down in the spot where he was, and Sam lay down a few feet away from him. 

"Sam," Frodo called to him. "Come and lie with me." Sam rose obediently and walked to where Frodo was lying, then placed himself down by his master. They locked eyes. "Hold me, Sam," Frodo told him, and Sam drew Frodo to him in an embrace. Frodo closed his eyes. 

"You've gone so thin, Mr. Frodo," said Sam softly. "I can feel your ribs..." 

"Shh," said Frodo, his eyes fully closed. "No more speaking." 

Sam nodded and closed his eyes, finally ready to greet a peaceful night's sleep. 


	3. Heavy

Chapter Three: Heavy 

Author's Note: I know I haven't updated in a while, I'm sorry about that. I've been wanting to post this chapter, but the great evil known to the world as the 'term paper' worked its way into my life. Essays are *so* not creative writing. ;) 

And yes, I know this seems like the end, but NO, it's not. Muahaha. You cannot escape. Two more chapters are a-comin' up in the fairly near future, so strap yourself in 'cuz it's gonna' be a bumpy ride filled with hobbit luurve. 

And just as the second night had reflected the previous, the second morning reflected the first. Sam awoke again entwined within his master's arms, the other hobbit's warmth still in contact with his own body. Sam was once again breathing in the familiar dusty and grassy, yet meaningfully sweet, scent which belonged to Frodo and only to Frodo. Yet something about Sam's arrival to the morning was different this time. Frodo's face was significantly different. The muscles of its chiseled structure seemed to be more relaxed and at ease than Sam had seen them in a while, and a faint but noticeable rose glow had crept into his upper cheeks. And besides all of this, all of this comforting beauty, this time Frodo's eyes were open and looking directly at Sam with a clear intensity that brought a question to Sam's own eyes as soon as they were opened. 

Too afraid still that he was in a dream, Sam made neither noise nor move, waiting for Frodo to do one or the other. Frodo only continued to gaze at him, his eyes focused intently as if he were trying to scold Sam into doing something with a look. He blinked; once, twice, then shut his eyes for a few seconds, when a single tear pushed its way out from behind his right eyelid. Frodo opened his eyes again as the tear flowed down his cheek. 

"What is it?" Asked Sam in a whisper, his brow furrowing in confusion. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, his arms still wrapped around Frodo, but looked back when he saw nothing. "What is it?" He repeated, his voice slightly louder this time. 

"Let me go," said Frodo, in a staccato tone of voice. His face stiffened, and he looked past Sam, who slowly loosed his grip and withdrew his arms. Frodo stood up, brushed off his clothes slightly, and took a few steps away from the spot where he had lain moments before. Turning his back to Sam, he stood there, breathing heavily. His shoulders could be seen plainly rising and falling with each breath, and his head hung down between them. 

Sam got up from his own position on the ground and looked behind him uncertainly once more. Turning his head forward again, he ventured a few steps closer to Frodo. "Mr. Frodo?" He questioned. His voice came out soft and timid, like that of a child who has just been in a fight with their parent. "Mr. Frodo, is everything all right?" 

There was a silence between them before Frodo made his reply. "I feel so tired," he said. Sam heard the words come out through his master's teeth, although he couldn't see his face. Frodo clenched his hands and his neck stiffened for a moment, but he soon stretched out his fingers again and lowered his head. "None of this was supposed to happen." 

Sam's gaze softened and he approached Frodo from behind, placing his hand on his master's shoulder. Frodo turned his head to look at Sam, staring at him with reddened eyes. Then he smiled sadly but gratefully and pivoted his body. Sam's hand dropped from Frodo's shoulder as he turned. 

"Please don't cry, Mister Frodo," said Sam. "You know I can't bear to see you cry." 

"But sometimes you have to let me cry, Sam," replied Frodo, smiling sadly once again. "Sometimes I'm not as strong as you are." Sam shook his head in objection and looked to the ground in an almost bashful manner. "No, you are," continued Frodo. "You are strong, and you are my strength." 

Sam raised his head slowly. "Can I ask you..." 

Frodo nodded his head, encouraging Sam to continue. 

"Well, can I ask you what I mean to you?" 

"Oh Sam," said Frodo in a near sigh. He raised his hand to Sam's cheek and brushed it against his skin softly before lowering it again. "Everything." He smiled at the startled look he received from Sam. "You've meant everything to me for a while, you know." 

Sam looked at Frodo, still trying to find some deeper answer in his face. "But what does that mean?" 

Frodo shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I don't know." 

"Well," said Sam, craning his neck to look for a few seconds into the distance. "I suppose we had best be on our way." 

Frodo nodded, then placed his hand under Sam's chin and turned his face directly towards his. He closed his eyes and kissed Sam softly on the lips. "Just to say good morning," he replied in answer to the slightly questioning look on Sam's face when he pulled away. "And perhaps goodbye." 

"No, Mister Frodo. I would never leave you." 

Frodo shook his head. "I mean goodbye as in the end of something. Maybe the end to whatever it is that we have just begun." 

Sam nodded, a saddened expression on his face. He couldn't say anything to that...he didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure if he agreed with or objected with what Frodo had just said to him. All he knew was that he wanted to say something more to his master, but that some force was preventing him from doing so, muting him every time the words would come to the tip of his tongue. _But it's no matter now_, Sam thought to himself. _You keep him safe, Sam Gamgee. That's all counts this time._

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__The two hobbits ate a breakfast of lembas, loaded their packs on their backs, and were soon on their way. The first minute of their walk was spent in silence between them, their footsteps and breathing the only detectable noises. Then, as the two of them passed a large boulder side by side, they looked at each other simultaneously and smiled. Frodo reached out and took Sam's hand, and their hands hung loosely at their sides, linked together, as they continued their journey.__

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	4. What We Are

A/N: This chapter set during the end of ROTK, when Sam tells Frodo that he is going to marry Rosie Cotton. The first quote is from Tolkein. 

Frodo smiled. "There's room enough in Bag End for as big a family as you could ever wish for." 

Sam nodded, and he continued to nod until he was looking awkwardly at the ground. A small smile played across his lips, but he wouldn't allow it to show. He felt happy just talking about Rose to him. His heart fluttered every time he said his name, yet he wondered why every time the word left his lips he felt like a villain. 

"You can smile, Sam," said Frodo gently. "This is happy news indeed." 

"Of course it is, Mr. Frodo," agreed Sam, not lifting his eyes from the ground. He joined his hands together in front of him and began circling his thumbs around one another unconsciously. 

"Then why stop yourself from smiling?" 

Sam looked up, but not at Frodo. He looked past him and out the window, to where the garden was. He remembered the hours he had spent there in all those years before. "Sometimes it's harder to smile when you're remembering," he said. 

"Remembering what?" Frodo spoke softly, seeing that Sam was uncomfortable but not knowing why. "Remembering what?" He repeated, even more softly this time. 

"Nights in the Emyn Muil." 

Frodo brought his head up and then down in a single nod of understanding as Sam met his eyes. Frodo's lips formed a silent "oh" and then pursed together in uncertainty. "Remembering...but what about it?" He asked Sam. 

Sam continued to fiddle with his thumbs. "Rememberin'...not knowin' what I felt. I was confused." 

Frodo gazed at him silenty and a small flush came to his cheeks. "Mr. Frodo, you're blushing," Sam pointed out matter-of-factly. Frodo let out a small laugh at the other hobbit's statement. "Oh, Sam," he sighed, taking a step closer to him and placing his hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I suppose you didn't know what you were feeling then. But you do know what you feel now. You love her." He looked directly into Sam's somber eyes, but his own eyes sparkled as he bowed his head slightly. "And I'm very happy for you." He withdrew his hand and stood there, awaiting a response. 

"Th...thank you, Mr. Frodo," Sam stuttered in a surprise which he himself didn't understand. The two stood there for nearly a minute in silence, and Sam continued to look directly at Frodo, who couldn't stand it anymore after a few seconds and looked to the ground. The silence had become nearly defeaning to both of them when Sam suddenly blurted out, "Oh, it's nothin' compared to what I feel for you." He flung his arms around Frodo in a tight embrace, and Frodo stood there in momentary shock, not prepared to return the hug. His head resting atop Sam's shoulder, he shut his eyes in pain. "Don't," he whispered into Sam's ear. "Sam, don't. Sam...Sam..." 

To the surprise of both of them, Sam was the first to break the embrace. "You should have known I loved you," he said. "You could always sense things like that." 

"Sam..." Began Frodo, looking past him, but Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, let me finish," he said, blurring his words together in a rush. "I knew I loved you for a long time, but I couldn't understand how it was...but then, I finally realized we weren't like brothers, not at all in fact. So, there, I said it." 

Frodo smiled sadly. "I love you too, Sam." He ignored Sam's utterly shocked expression. "And you still mean everything to me." 

Sam shook his head in disbelief at first, then moved his face closer in towards Frodo's to kiss him, but Frodo placed his hand on Sam's chest. "No, Sam," he objected. "You belong to someone else now. And you love her. Remember that. I know you love her very much." He paused and took a deep breath. "And it hurts me to see you love her, but you do." 

Sam nodded slowly. "And it hurts me to love you. Do you ever wonder why things happen the way they do?" 

"I used to," said Frodo. "I used to think every burden laid upon us was unfair. But I think you changed my way of thinking." He cocked his head to the right and placed his hand on Sam's cheek. "Oh, my dear Sam," he whispered. 

Sam placed his hand atop Frodo's and his eyes began to water. "A kiss goodbye?" He asked his master. "To what we were?" 

Frodo shut his eyes and nodded, and the two moved together to lose themselves in that one sweet and sorrowful kiss. And to both of them it seemed both an eternity and a millisecond simultaneously, but the kiss did end, and Sam backed away. 

"I'll be goin' now, I suppose," he said softly. He turned away and headed out the door, shutting it softly behind him without even the thought of glancing back. 

For moments after he had gone, Frodo could still feel him there in front of him. He could still sense his presence and smell his scent. "Goodbye," he said quietly, "To what we were." He bowed his head and placed his forehead in his hands. "And what we never will be." 


End file.
